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Andrew E Savage Apr 2012
Oh, how Emmaline did write,
Her touch to the parchment;
How she thought it was a plight,
She forever a lent.

Plastered walls encompassing
As she avidly wrote.
White curtains to indite,
Details to she would gloat.

How she and they sat: cat and dog,
Hammers striking the strings.
Its tone creating a sound bog,
Words ones to ever sing.

Books stacked there effortlessly,
Beauty with a quote.
The animals, with ever chi,
Spied for an anecdote.

Yet, how literature was bent,
Her quilt now forsaken;
How they would forever relent:
They never awakened.
*Originally written in January 2012 for American Literature class*
Andrew E Savage Dec 2011
My feet steadfast upon the soil,

The ground stirs beneath me.

The translucent smoke levitates about,

Seclusion claiming the sublime mountains.

The wooden sovereigns retain indefinite poise,

Exuberant with gleaming white flowers.

Ants traverse the green bridge,

Their mouths opening a seal to new life.

Elegant leaves flutter in the wind,

Their entities obscuring the radiant sun.

An infinite stream flows;

A waterfall is calling to me.
Andrew E Savage Dec 2011
Monotony plagues me,

Parchment dulled with gray;

Alleviation claiming my wishes,

My grasp purporting uniformity.

Eyes desirous,

Heart adamant,

A vista emerges,

Rainbows leaking onto my paper.
Andrew E Savage Dec 2011
Here I stumble

Atop this tower,

Abyssal ground below.

The infinity of sovereigns

Slowly crumbling about me,

Victims plunging towards eternity.

My eyes lay gaze upon my earth,

Its certainty clouded.

Will I descend?
Andrew E Savage Oct 2011
I walk merrily,
  
My mind filled with glee.
  
I feel happy,

My cares frivlous and light.
  
My smile exuberat-no.

How could this...?

My mind.. there iS no serenitY...
  
I CAnnot calm myself...whY Is this hAPPEning?

I FeeL cold.

Why AM I so WEak?
  
Nothing can ca-WHERE IS SHE THE WALLS ARE BLEEDING
Andrew E Savage Sep 2011
I sit here as hell unfolds,


Relentless power encapsulating me.


I cannot bare to watch it;


Yet, all I can do is sit here,


And watch from a useless angle.
Some alterations made by suggestions from the wise JM Romig.

I thank you for your feedback.
Andrew E Savage Sep 2011
My feelings, swirling about,


Interlocking, changing, altering;


Certainty forever distant.


I contemplate, wondering what they imply.


Yet, I am left to wonder,


What my feelings are telling me.
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